: Here's a prime example of "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus";
offered by an English professor from the University of Colorado for an
actual class assignment:

The professor told his class one day: "Today we will experiment with a
new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right.

As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a
short story. You will e-mail your partner that paragraph and send
another copy to
me. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another
paragraph to the story and send it back, also sending another copy to
me.
The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on
back-and-forth.

Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep
the story coherent. There is to be absolutely NO talking outside of
the e-mails
and anything you wish to say must be written in the e-mail. The story
is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached."

The following was actually turned in by two of his English students:
Rebecca and Gary.

THE STORY: (first paragraph by Rebecca)

At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The < BR>chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now
reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that
he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her
mind off
Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him
too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the
question.

(second paragraph by Gary)

Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron
now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more ortant things to think about than
the
neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he
had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. " A.S. Harris to Geost
Station 17,"
he said into his transgalactic communicator. " Polar orbit
established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign
off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole
through his ship's carg o bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him
flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.

(Rebecca)

He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt
one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who
had ever
had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless
hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes
Law
Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie read in her
newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored
her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days
had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspaper to read, no
television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all
the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to
become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.

(Gary)

Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live .
Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched
the first of its
lithium fusion missiles. The dimwitted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the
unilateral Aerospace disarmament Treaty through the congress had left
Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were
determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the
passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth,
carrying enough firepower to
pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly
initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered
the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile
submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt
the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid
Laurie.

(Rebecca)

This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My
writing partner is a violent, chauvin istic semi-literate adolescent.

(Gary)

Yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic
whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. "Oh,
shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of F--KING
TEA??? Oh no, what am I to do? I'm such an air headed bimbo who reads
too many Danielle Steele novels!"